


The Binding of the Djinn

by PunchRockgroin



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 16:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15513888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunchRockgroin/pseuds/PunchRockgroin
Summary: It's not wise to affront an immortal, for they are cruel and patient. Mortals can't maintain a grudge for longer than a few centuries- but an immortal will hold it for a millenia and wreak terrible vengeance against your descendants for a sin they have long since forgotten.A gift/commission for NuclearPoweredStick.





	1. Primordia the Witchmother

_ “Primordia the Witchmother _

_ Cruel and hard was she _

_ Her reign begat all the others _

_ And the kingdom of Mewni” _

Before anything, I did not exist. And it was good.

How does one explain the state of unbeing to one who has always been? To one whose means of expression and communication are all predicated on the notion of being? How does one explain snow to a camel? Mountains to an earthworm?

And yet, I must try. This is my confession. I did not exist, not by any means that a mortal would understand. I was a vapor, a cosmic nothingness, an empty helix that filled the interstices of reality, neither constrained by time nor space, neither sapient nor idiot, a non-living life. In those days, I had no name, no body, no construction. I simply was, and that was enough.

To be forced into one of your bodies- composed of atoms and particles, experiencing a linear progression of time, limited by the constraints of physics? It was hell. Hell beyond your comprehension. Being, for me, was excruciating. Imagine, if you will, a blade that can shave a single atom off of your body. Imagine that shearing off this atom causes a localized atomic explosion that burns you from within, with your body undergoing total incineration from the inside out until all that remains is is a hollowed-out shell man. Imagine this happens to you one atom at a time, billions and trillions of times, and you may have some inkling of my pain in the instant I was forced into being.

I lay on the floor, babbling, my body corpulent and twitching in a puddle of my own waste. From above, I heard a voice- it was like a rusty blade against my new ears.

“I said  _ straighten _ !” the voice barked. “You will obey your queen!”

Bit by bit, my perception returned to me. I sat up, delirious and bleary-eyed, and looked at the speaker. I didn’t know a thing about mortals at a time, but I would later come to understand that I was looking at a female of unusual height and power. She looked upon me as though I were an insect, disgust pouring from her eyes.

“Bind it,” she said coldly. “I bind you, elemental! To this dirt, I entomb you! To this stone, I enslave you! To these walls, I imprison you! To this plane, I tether you!”

Shackles coiled around my new wrists and ankles, holding me in place. I let out a retching moan and twisted in the grip to no avail. The woman spoke with force, her eyes aglow- and soon it was over. I hung there helplessly.

She approached me, something between her fingers. She held it up before my eyes: a blue gemstone. 

“Hear me now, elemental,” she said imperiously. “I am Primordia Butterfly, first witch of the Mewmans and heir to the throne. You serve me now.” She pressed the gemstone to my bare stomach, and tremendous heat came from her palm, singing it into my skin. I let out a shudder of pain.

“Say it!” she shrieked.

“I serve you!” I spat, unsure where the words had come from. “I serve Primordia!”

“And when I die, you shall serve my children!” she yelled. “And my children’s children! And my children’s children’s children! On and on for a thousand generations yet to come!”

“Y-yes! I so vow it!”

Primordia drew back a step. With a wave of her hand, the chains holding me vanished and I crumpled to the floor once more. “Why... have you... done this...” I gasped, opening and closing my mouth like a dying fish.

“Hmph. Because of  _ these _ .” Primordia leaned close and showed me her cheeks. Marking each was a pair of pink shapes- butterflies. “You were born from the Realm of Magic, no? I draw a connection from the same. And I... I require assistance.”

She walked away, as I lay unmoving on the floor. “This is a savage land,” she murmured. “Beasts and devils roam freely. Even the plants are carnivorous. If we are to beat them back into the darkness... if we are to provide a life for our families... we need strength. As much as we can gather.”

Slowly, I rose to a sitting position, panting. Every passing second made existing a bit easier. “But... why me?”

“You  _ are _ a knowledge elemental. In your mind is stored all the information that exists, no?” Primordia returned to me and pulled my head up so her eyes locked with mine. “My people are primitive. Great warriors, but no knowledge, no wit. Only the witches know a thing- and we pass our training down orally. Any knowledge a witch fails to impart dies with her- I can only imagine the wealth of discoveries lost because of poor training or premature death. We need a repository. A glossary. That will be you, elemental.”

“Free me from this...”

“No. Never. You are bound, and you will serve my dynasty long after I’m forgotten. Give up your dreams of freedom, elemental. This is your lot now, and you will serve. Understood?”

Meekly, I nodded. “Then... what do you wish of me first, my queen?”

“I require a channel. A way that will allow me to channel power directly from the Realm.”

“Of course, my queen. It will be done at once.” I bowed low.

Primordia was cunning, in her savage way. She was possessed of a certain low ingenuity- boring as sin, but no fool as far as mortals went. The magical bonds she had trapped me in would never degrade, and I could not by action or inaction attempt to escape them.

But she made the same mistake all clever mortals made, when dealing with my kind. She thought that, because I would outlive her a thousand times over, I would not be able to hurt her. I would never have the opportunity to take revenge against she who tortured me with existence, who captured me in a millenium snare.

But I did not seek revenge against Primordia. I sought nothing less than the total oblivion of her line. I sought the end to her family, her people, her culture, her works, her way of life. I sought a revenge so deep, so all-encompassing, that a mortal would find it scarcely comprehensible.

The day I was enslaved, I began to plan.


	2. Solaria the Monster Carver

_ “A castle stormed is a hero born _

_ With might as strong as steel _

_ Kneels the void before her _

_ And the crushing force she wields” _

 

“A book?” Young Solaria Butterfly stared at me with suspicion. “Why’s it gotta be a book?”

“It is what your mother wrote in,” I replied. “And her mother before her, and her mother before that, all the way back to your great-great-great-great-great-grandmother Primordia.”

Solaria had more of Primordia in her than I would have liked. Butterflys came in two main varieties: playful and irreverent or severe and warlike. Solaria was as strongly the latter as any princess I had tutored thus far. “I don’t like reading,” she complained. “I can never keep the letters straight. Like, this one.” She pointed to a word in the spellbook:  _ potency _ . “Is that a p or a q or a what?”

“It’s... it’s... look, how do you not know how to read?” I sighed. “Okay. I guess we’ll have to work on that, too.”

“No! That’ll take forever.” Solaria patted her wand that lay at her side. Fittingly, it had taken the shape of a sword in her possession. “You can just read it to me, and if I wanna write something, you can do that, too.”

“That’s no toy in your hand,” I replied with a roll of my eyes. “If you don’t-” I stopped myself, realizing the golden opportunity that had been presented to me. Finally, it had happened.

Primordia the Witchmother had taught her daughter Munda to be wary of me, and Munda had passed that down to her daughter Materia- but Materia had been lax, and had not given the lesson the weight it deserved to Ourania. One by one, the Butterflys saw me as less of a chained monster, a creature who was useful so long as it was kept on a leash, and more and more of some sort of housepet.

It helped that I slowly had shrank myself in size to be about eight inches tall. How could something as small as me be a threat? Any Mewman child could crush me like a bug, right?

Centuries in bondage, and this was the first true slip-up. I couldn’t waste it. 

Solaria’s strong arms and intense features told me she excelled on the field of battle, but she had no patience for learning. I could teach her anything I wanted, more or less, and who would notice? Her mother Theia was infirm and feeble after an injury taken in battle and most of the kingdom’s leaders were preoccupied with this endless war against the Lucitor Clan.

The Lucitorans wielded powerful magic, actually... they could defeat the Butterflys, overrun Mewni... no. No, they lacked the numbers. The moment was not yet ripe. Instead, I would plant another seed and give it some centuries to harvest.

“Well, I suppose if you don’t want to learn to read, I could teach you something... interesting.” I glanced at her. “No, no. It’s far too much power. Who knows what you could do if I taught it to you?”

Her ears instantly perked up at the mention of power. “Tell me!” she demanded, pounding her fist into her palm.

“Oh... well, if you insist.” I pulled up the book, pretending to consult it. “This is called  _ void  _ magic. It’s a bit different than what you’re used to, but it’s very potent. I didn’t think your mother was strong enough to handle it, but you...”

“I’m strong enough! I can handle anything! Show it to me!” Solaria leaped to her feet, brandishing her blade. I suppressed a smile- finally, I could begin.

“Repeat after me, then. Don’t deviate by a single word.” I cleared my throat. “By a castle stormed, a hero is born, with might as strong as steel. Kneel before the void, and the crushing force it wields.”

She repeated it perfectly. Her blade glowed black for a moment, and soon the murkiness spread up her hand. “Wh... this feels funny!” She yelped in pain. “T-that hurt!”

“Of course. This is deep, powerful magic.” I lowered my eyes. “I told you it was strong.”

“No... no! I can handle the pain!” She snarled and stood perfectly still, breathing evenly. As soon as the ritual began, it was over- a speck of darkness remained in the wand’s center, but besides that it was back to normal.

Solaria gave it a few practice swings. “Feels a little different,” she said. “...Heavier, I think.”

“You wanted more power,” I replied, conjuring a quill. “Want me to write the spell down for you?”

“Yeah... yeah, sure.”

“Can I make a few changes for the sake of clarity?”

“Uh huh.”

With a smile, I wrote down the contents of the spell- or most of them. The only lie I could tell was the lie of omission. “Kneels the void before her” instead of “Kneels before the void”. Such a trifling change to ensure my deception would never be uncovered.

Nothing I had told Solaria was false, but I had also skipped the fact that the wand was now corrupted... forever.

It wouldn’t matter a whit to Solaria. She’d charge into battle with that empowered wand and carve her enemies like Stump Day decorations. But someday.


	3. Eclipsa, Queen of Darkness

_ “Eclipsa, Queen of Mewni _

_ To a Mewman king was wed _

_ But took a monster for her love _

_ And away from Mewni fled” _

 

“All right, let’s see... form seventeen.” I flipped through the book. “Yeah, seventeen. We haven’t tried that one in a bit.”  
Eclipsa twirled her wand a few times, pointing it to the sky. “Cry of Dawn!” she sang, and sunlight streamed into her wand, gathered into a shimmering and fitful orb, and then disintegrated a pillar fifty feet away.

“Good,” I said, and meant it. Eclipsa’s skill with the wand was impeccable. At her young age, she had already surpassed her mother Solaria’s abilities. The only Butterfly I could remember with such extraordinary magical gifts was... Primordia herself.

Half a millenium since I had seen Primordia for the last time. Her sickly, feeble mortal body waxy and dry, looking more like the animated dead. How I relished her pain and discomfort. Even now, I still loathed her as deeply as I had the day she bound me to this wretched temple.

“Let’s take a break,” I said, realizing my face probably showing at least some of my hatred. Eclipsa was not just gifted, she was unusually canny. I always kept her at a distance, and that was just fine with her. If she had a weakness, it was that she would avoid being controlled by others no matter the consequences.

Eclipsa sat down and began to munch on an apple while I availed myself of my only real pleasure: sweets. The princess had brought me a new dessert that was all the rage, a sort of cold porridge made from horsemeal and sweetened with chocolate. I couldn’t get enough of it.

I glanced over at the princess as she reached into her clothes and produced some letters. She began to blush and giggle as she read, blissfully unaware of everything around her. She was brilliant, but she was also fourteen. Impressionable. Malleable.

Curiously I drifted over to her. “Whatcha reading?”

She pulled the letter back, then stared at me. “Glossaryck, can you keep a secret?”

“So long as you keep bringing me more of this,” I said, shaking the cup. “What did you call this delectable stuff again?”

“Pudding. And, well, it’s a letter. A... love letter.” The flesh around her spade cheekmarks turned pink.

“From prince... what’s his name?”

“Him? Certainly not! I’ve never met a more loutish and boring man.” Eclipsa straightened herself. “This is from a... monster prince.”

I raised my eyebrows and said nothing. Eclipsa rushed to justify herself. “He’s so...  _ different _ than Mewman nobles! He’s honest and clever and romantic, he doesn’t just think about fighting or holding a fork right or whatever. It’s stupid that I can’t be with him, just because our parents hate one another!”

“Does the queen know?” I asked.

“No, of course not- she’d lock me in my room for a year, or worse. Oh, but I can’t keep sneaking to meet him... my mother is starting to get suspicious. She said I’m only allowed to leave the castle with a chaperone.”

“I don’t see one here.”

“Well, you’re my chaperone, I suppose.” Eclipsa put a finger on her chin. I thought about telling her, but decided against it. She was a willful girl, she’d be more amenable to the idea if it came from her own lips. “Oh! Glossaryck, I could go meet with Globgor when I’m supposed to be with you!”

“And skip out on your training?”

“I’m already better with the wand than Mother, aren’t I?”

I pretended to think about it. “Yes, very true. I can’t deny your skills- and if you want to be with this boy, I have no right to get between you. But, I would ask for something in exchange.”

Eclipsa’s smile faded. “What is it?”

“I’ve been stuck in this temple for 509 years! I know every single brick of this building personally I want to go out, try new foods, see new things- and keep an eye on you if we won’t be practicing together anymore.” I pointed at the book. “I want you to alter the terms of my binding from the temple to the book.”

“I-I can’t do that! It’s  _ forbidden- _ ”

“So is meeting with a monster prince. You  _ can _ do it, Eclipsa. I watch you, you invent new spells without even trying to. Some of the queens I’ve taught were never able to make their own magic, but they weren’t as smart or creative as you were. I know you can do it if you try.”

Eclipsa mulled it over. Her mother was too unforgiving and austere with her strong-willed daughter, and so the princess had always been vulnerable to flattery. “...Well, I suppose I could ask Rhombulus for help. Bless him, he isn’t the brightest, I’m sure I could trick him.”

I glance over at the pod that Rhombulus and his siblings emerged from. I hadn’t been able to alter them nearly as much as I would have liked, but I did make sure that their ultimate loyalties were to the Realm of Magic- not the Butterfly family, as my orders had implied but not directly stated.

Eclipsa stared at me, a curious look in her eyes. “But if I do this, Glossaryck, I’ll expect something in return. You must vow to hide my secrets, now and forever.”

I bowed. “It’s a deal.”


	4. Celena the Shy

_ “What hides behind the golden fan _

_ The hand does sweetly hold _

_ A trove of cosmic secrets _

_ That never will be told” _

 

She ran and she ran and she ran, but I followed.

Celena had never been the best athlete, and her magic was weak too. I effortlessly dodged the blasts she fired back at me as she desperately tried to stay ahead.

I was patient. No need to attack. Merely wait for exhaustion and fear to do the work for me.

Sure enough, Celena fell- tripped over a branch. I swooped in, swiftly casting a spell of deafness on myself.

She raised her wand but I swooped in and wrested it from her grasp, throwing it to the dirt. She raised her hand and screamed.

“It won’t work,” I told her. “I altered the book so I only have to obey  _ verbal _ commands. I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

_ Then I’ll talk to you like this!  _ She was beaming directly into my mind.  _ I command you to sleep, djinn! _

_ That won’t work either,  _ I beamed back, the gem Rhombulus impressed on my forehead all those years ago faintly glowing.  _ Telepathy isn’t verbal- although you’re pretty good at it. You were always good at unconventional magic... like divination. _

Celena backed up against the tree, breathing hard.  _ I didn’t get it. I didn’t see what was right in front of me. Why I kept getting portents of treachery. “The doom of your people sits beneath your nose.” I thought it was the wand... not you. _

_ How can I be your doom, Celena? I took a vow to never harm a Butterfly through action or inaction.  _ I smiled innocently.  _ I’m perfectly harmless. _

_ Liar! You altered the book! You tainted the wand! I-I don’t know why, but  _ **_you’re_ ** _ the doom of the Butterflys! _

_ I won’t let eight hundred years of work be spoiled by one teenager,  _ I beamed back.  _ Your family will suffer Celena, suffer as I have suffered, but you won’t be able to do a thing about it. _

I raised my hand and began the spell. Celena gasped and clawed at her own throat, to no avail.  _ What are you doing...? _

_ Taking your ability to speak. And your telepathy at that. They’re dangerous, you see...  you’d have to die if I didn’t take them from you, so I’m actually protecting you from harm. Aren’t loopholes splendid? _

Celena fell to her knees, slamming her palms against her throat, raking at her lips with her hands.  _ You... you can’t... I won’t... you... traitor... _

I looked down impassively at the writhing queen, and expected to feel some sort of triumph. My first true act of aggression against my nemeses. But I felt nothing. This was no achievement, it was merely another step towards the destiny that Primordia had doomed her house to.

I altered Celena’s memories as she slept, then pulled her back to the castle. A queen who cannot speak is no queen at all, and so Celena the Augur became Celena the Shy. Never to speak again, nor to know why she could not. A wretch, a wraith, a half-thing, treated as an invalid by her peers and a failure by her family.

What a terrible, terrible shame.


End file.
